


Delays

by TheMockingCrows



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 17:43:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6161398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMockingCrows/pseuds/TheMockingCrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John and Dave miss their flight and are left with hours of waiting, they find ways to entertain themselves rather than let it put a damper on the start of their vacation. John isn't certain about doing much beyond leeching the airport wifi, but Dave seems to have more energetic ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delays

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr mirror: http://themockingcrows.tumblr.com/post/140459984757/delays

     “What do you MEAN we missed the flight?!” John cried, leaning over the counter anxiously, palms flattened out on the smooth laminated surface that was quickly becoming damp with sweat. “We didn't get any idea the gate had changed till now!”

     “I'm aware, sir. It doesn't change the fact that the flight is gone,” the woman in the starched uniform said, tapping at the keyboard with the patience of a saint as she worked on finding the next flight for them. “Also, yelling doesn't make it better. Or change the fact you're not the only ones who missed their flight.”

     Dave had drifted from John's side already to claim two seats as they waited among a small herd of people who had been left behind. This was their second and final connecting flight, the final leg of a long journey to a much needed vacation that promised sun, surf and way too much fatty food and drinks.

     It was SUPPOSED to be a great anniversary trip.

     Not sitting on their thumbs in a huge airport, without even their baggage. ...Oh. Oh, God. The baggage!

     “Our bags already got put on the flight, though! All of our things are in there aside from our wallets and passports!” John added as he shifted from foot to foot antsily, unable to sit properly still as the woman typed and finally started to write on the now defunct tickets.

     “On the plane itself?” she asked, pausing to look up in confusion. They'd missed their flight, how were their things on board?

     “No, no. They were checked bags. Two roller suit cases and a red duffle with a yellow tag on it.”

     “Yellow ombre, dude,” Dave tossed from the side.

     “Dave, you're not hel- okay fine, it was yellow /OMBRE/,” John said exaggeratedly. Fucking art students. “The bags were already packed on that flight, we saw them go through the carousel behind the ticket counter. What are we supposed to do?”

     “Pick up your backs at your final destination, they should still be there waiting for you. If you tagged them properly they should be easy to find.”

     “What if someone steals them, though, we're heading to a really toursity are-”

     “Your next flight is in six hours,” she said, finishing her writing and sliding the tickets over. “Go to customer service for proper boarding passes, but your next flight will be at gate 36J. Try to be on time and keep an eye on the boards in case of sudden changes of gates this time.”

     It took physical effort not to scream or stamp his feet like a petulant infant, and even more to not drop like a sack of angst potatoes onto Dave's waiting lap with no warning. Instead, John sank into the empty seat in the row beside Dave, slithered down till he was half sitting on the scratchy carpeting, held up only by his extended arms. His bellow of complaint was that of a gassy caribou.

     “This is bullshiiiiiiiit!”

     “Yep.”

     “This isn't faiiiiiiiir!”

     “Also yep.”

     “HOW CAN YOU BE SO CALM! LITERALLY EVERYTHING WAS ON THE PLANE!” John whined, slipping the last few inches to the floor before banging his head and shoulders back against the seat top. “The clothes, the books, the laptops, my 3ds..”

     “The sunscreen, your stupid swim shorts with the crab design on the ass.”

     “Excuse you, my Red Hot Crab shorts are god damn GENIUS.”

     “...They look like a crab claw is pinching your butt, that's not genius that's cheap.”

     “Dave, you can't talk, your shorts look like they're made out of pizza.”

     “I wouldn't expect you to understand style after what you just said, John. Besides, there's a hidden message in there specifically for you.”

     “What kind of message is a set of swim shorts that looks like greasy pieces of pizza supposed to offer, oh great sage of snacks.”

     “A very important message. Think a giant billboard telling you to eat my ass.”

     “.... That's not funny in the slightest,” John protested, fighting an automatic smirk. No, shut up, he was not smiling at all. That was not funny. Not at all. … Not... at all.. Oh god no, there was no fighting the laughter now.

     “So.. How long've we got? Did we hit double digits?” Dave asked, as if he hadn't been listening from a distance already.

     “Six hours.. Like. At least we've got our wallets? We can get snacks or dinner. Maybe some magazines or something.”

     “Or a coloring book.”

     “I-? Yeah. Sure. Makes sense. ...But God, six hours. Six. Hours. What are we supposed to do till then?”

     Dave stretched a bit in his chair, running a hand through his pale hair afterwards so it would fluff and fall just right over the brim of his broad shades.

     “Well.. Let's go get these boardin' passes upgraded. Then we can go ahead and explore.”

     “Explore what? It's an airport.”

     “It's an airport, John. A huge airport in a place we've never been before. As long as we're at that new gate, tickets in hand, at the right time? We're free men and this place is our playground.”

     “...I'm not following, Dave. They don't even have a TV here. Oh! They've got wifi though, we could probably just watch Youtube or something I guess,” John offered, brightening a little. Digital distraction? Yes please.

     Dave muttered under his breath but was soon standing to drag John along to get the bit of paperwork done and over with so they would indeed be free till later. Six hours.. Six hours. What could they get up to in six long hours?

     After the stint of line warming at customer service they got lunch first and foremost, John loading up on a thick deli sandwich and going heavy with the mayo and mustard till he had to mop his face of the mess after every few bites to avoid getting the mixture into his drink like a rogue contaminate. Dave settled for some kind of a chicken wrap that was trying way too hard to be a gyro and failing. Eh. Edible enough and the chips he crunched up and put inside the skin of the thing made up the difference to keep it tasty.

     They split a thick slice of chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting for dessert, trading jokes and varied degrees of bullshit as they people watched.

     “..Hm. Rollin' suit case, pressed suit. Shoes shined recently. Looks like the idea of buyin' and sellin' stocks is the same as trading in people. Age: approximately old as shit, played basketball with Grandma Moses.”

     “I say.. either Florida, or Texas,” John said, narrowing his eyes from behind his thick glasses.

     “Seriously? Babe. He's IN the suit.”

     “Yeah, but it's not that hot out there. Trust me.”

     “Well, if YOU'RE right he'll be going left. If you're totally wrong, which you are, he'd go right... about... HA, SEE? I fuckin' told you man, you owe me now,” Dave laughed as he crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat to slouch down.

     John huffed at his failed guess, but then frowned at his boyfriend.

     “..Owe you what, exactly? We already ate, and I'm pretty sure even you couldn't squeeze down another dessert without popping like a tick.”

     “I say we go wander around for a bit.”

     “..Wander.”

     “Yeah, we've got an alarm on my phone for when to be near the gate, plenty early in case they change gates last second. What's the harm in poking around a bit?” Dave asked.

     “Won't we look kinda suspicious?”

     “Dude, we're not gonna sneak into lines or past security anywhere. This is a big airport, let's. I dunno, window shop. Maybe ride that tram a few times, get off somewhere that looks interesting. Get a different window to stare out for a few hours.”

     “That sounds... Really, really, really boring actually. I'd rather just sit back near the hotspot and dick around on my phone,” John admitted, all sense of adventure slain right alongside the dregs of his soda and melting ice. “Why are you so intent on wandering around? Just sit back and relax while you can, we've got a long flight after the wait and then a LOT of vacation to have. Earn lazy points and cash them in when we play.”

     “John, I'm wantin' to wander with you because I'm pretty against the idea of sucking your dick in an airport bathroom,” Dave said without hesitation, features relaxed into a bland position soon as John sputtered and slapped the table to straighten his back in surprise like a spitting cat.

     “I-! What. Why. WHY. ...And when?”

     So predictable. The guy was a glutton for enjoying himself, and Dave was a greedy piglet for reactions. Usually, embarrassed reactions stemming from John directly since that red face was so delightful.

     “Well.. You heard what. The why is 'cause I felt like it, and the when is whenever you get around to following me around for a bit so we can find a spot that'd be suitable. Because like I said, you couldn't convince me to suck you off in an airport stall even if you dick was made of premium grade summer sausage.”

     Being that close to an airport toilet was not happening, thank you. Take your complaints to the help desk to bitch about later, it was not a thing in his future.

     “I wasn't going to try to convince you to su-,” John began, dropping his volume when he realized there was some staring directed their way. “...I wasn't going to try convincing you to do anything at all, I didn't even know you wanted to do something like that!” John hissed under his breath. “I thought we'd at least get to the hotel before, I dunno, maybe heading to the shower or something.”

     “Aw, don't wanna join the mile high club?” Dave asked, keeping the conversation highly charged.

     “Dave, I can barely sit down in the stupid stall on the plane without my knees popping the door open, and my hips hardly fit in the seat space. I don't think I could join the mile high club if I wanted to.”

     “That's quitter talk, Egbert.”

     John rubbed at his temples before sighing, shaking his head. There was no winning that discussion, was there?

     “Look, just.. Let's get rid of our garbage and go walking, okay? We can explore like you wanted, and if we find a good spot, we might stop. IF, and ONLY IF, there's no hint of security cameras and there's not likely to be a guard patrolling every few minutes,” John insisted, laying down his ground rules. Dave nodded in understanding, willing to work within those parameters.

     Simple.

     The two rose and gathered their garbage onto their trays, sweeping crumbs along for the ride with the side of their hand to make less work for the busy staff later and dumping the lot into the slotted bins. Their trays clattered into place atop it before they walked away, drifting close to each other for a long hall, eventually lacing their fingers together.

     John picked locations first. The tram to several different gate letters. The escalators. The big bay windows over the airport apron, watching the massive planes and smaller vehicles shuffle around to and fro. To other waiting areas that held different snack bars and stores with odds and ends.

     He picked out matching t-shirts to mark their stay, one medium and one 3x with the idea Dave would drown in the massive one and he himself would batter the poor medium into a crop top from Hell.

     Dave led them around to harder to find places.

     Racks of maps and magazines, books, even comics. Rows of vending machines. Public access areas that were practically vacant, one or two sleepy faced workers trailing around going from point A to point B along with others steering empty luggage carts.

     However, between a return trip on the tram, Dave ducked out suddenly. John looked on in shock as his boyfriend slipped nimbly through the doors just before they closed, leaving him standing there with wide eyes.

 

     “DAVE? What the fuck. WHAT THE FUCK?” he shouted, moving to press at the door as Dave smirked at him and took his phone out, starting to type with his thumbs as the tram pulled away into the tunnel.

     “Sir? I'm sorry, sir, but you need to step back. The door clearly says that if the door gets too much pressure placed on it, that it will have to have an automatic stop.”

     John took a step back and apologized to the owner of the soft voice of warning just as his phone buzzed in his pocket.

 

TG: hey

TG: come find me

TG: pretty sure youll get some kind of rad reward if you do

TG: think videogame quest but with dick sucking as a reward instead of a handful of coins and sarcastic thank yous on top of more quests

TG: im the best npc ever

 

     Groaning in frustration, almost stamping his feet like a child, John replied.

 

EB: are you serious?

EB: at the airport?

EB: are you even going to be where you left? like, are you going to switch gates?

TG: same gate hall same gate channel

EB: … god damn it.

EB: we don't have all the time in the world!

TG: guess you better not suck at hide and seek then huh

TG: look i already found somewhere to wait you just have to hunt me down

EB: dave.

TG: its a great hiding spot youll either love it or be pissed as hell

 

     Sometimes, John wondered why he dated Dave when he was prone to finding the one possible way to frustrate him and poking it with a stick. Other times, he looked back on incidents like this and remembered that spontaneity fondly. There were sexy promises afoot, but would it be worth this sudden game?

     Probably. Most definitely actually, if Dave could actually BE found and wasn't hiding somewhere near a camera or security.

     John rode the tram to the end of the line and back, occasionally texting Dave to get clues.

 

EB: so. are yoouuu.... near a window?

TG: nope

EB: is there a source of water near you?

TG: nah

EB: would i be able to smell food, where you are.

TG: i smell lemons does that count

EB: lemons??

TG: said too much guess harder

 

     “...Lemons?” he said aloud to his screen, staring at his phone as if it personally offended him. Finally at the right stop, John hopped off and walked several paces before sniffing the air. No lemons. ..Right. Maybe there was some kind of juice bar they'd missed earlier, or an air freshener that wasn't floral.

     Some hunting and walking in annoyed circles later like a hound with a sudden spell of anosmia, John finally got a lucky break. A janitor had passed him by tugging along a cart, emptying cans and wiping down railings here and there in a set pattern. A thick wave of lemony, chemical freshness hit him in the face and clung to his tastebuds.

     “...Lemons,” he repeated, smirking a bit.

     Oh, yes, this had to be it. Whistling casually, John put his hands in his pockets and headed away from the thoroughfare, back towards the quieter parts of the connected halls. Dingy looking marked doors. Meeting rooms, offices, storage that all required keys. … and cleaning supply. After a quick look over his shoulder, John jiggled the handle, pleased when it popped open effortlessly and swung inward.

     “Well, shit. I knew I'd fucked up saying that, but I had no idea I'd fucked up THAT badly. You got here in a hurry,” Dave said from the corner, perched on a sealed cardboard box of industrial toilet paper rolls.

     “Yeah, you did, but. Why in here? What if you got locked in? I wouldn't have been able to get you back out,” John said, closing the distance in the storage room to set his hands on either side of his boyfriend's lap, leaning in for a kiss to his temple.

     “Eh. I slipped the janitor ten bucks and explained the situation. He said don't make a mess and don't steal anything, and wished me luck.”

     “You.. told him?”

     “Yep. Congrats, John, you're getting your dick sucked for ten dollars. Special discount just for you,” Dave said with a smirk, scooting good and close to get off the boxes. He slid their bodies close together on the way down, making it well known that he was ahead of John already by sporting half mast, but pulled away just as fast to try getting John to sit where he'd been before.

     “Not funny,” he said as he sat down, knowing it was easier than just bitching. Especially when he was already game to carry on with what was promised. For reasons. He'd found Dave, damn it, might as well get that reward he'd talked up so much and been thinking about a lot.

     “You're right. Hilarious. C'mon, can you get your zipper? That thing's bullshit to try opening, I don't know why you even still wear this pair. Top button too if you would.”

     After John struggled with his own clothing, growing increasingly frustrated at the easily jammed zipper and reached a point of wondering if just cutting the entire set of jeans off was a viable option, he was finally able to do as Dave had asked. A step further even, as he went ahead and tugged them down half his thighs to let his cock hang free as it started to slowly rise to life.

     “Theeeeere we go. Fantastic,” Dave hummed, giving a glance to the door before slipping down to his knees and grasping the dick he'd been after for the last few hours to give it a few good pumps. Yes, good. Come on now, wake up for Dave.

     “Why are you so keen on oral right now? You sure you don't wanna just like. Rub one out together? Maybe touching, even? Or like.. I think there's condoms somewhere, or something to work as lube?” John asked as he tried to keep his hips from lurching forward while his dick started to rise to attention. Leave it to Dave, puppet master of his dick. Just like clockwork.

     “Nah. Saving penetration for when I can have access to a shower, and when I can wear you out good and proper. I'd rather get you riled up and interested in what to do after we land than be uncomfortable for the whole damn flight there.”

     “Yeah, but..”

     “John. ...Just let me do this, yeah?” Dave murmured, peering up from where he was settled. “We can bitch back and forth, but when it comes down to it I just feel like it. I wanna spoil you, I want a dick in my mouth, and I wanted to do it somewhere we normally wouldn't. It's all linin' up, if you'd stop worrying and just let me work. I promise: you can destroy me later. In fact, I'm counting on it.”

     Oh.

 _Well_ , then.

     “I never knew you were into cock worship,” John said instead of arguing his own side of wanting to be able to touch and interact with his boyfriend more during the act, trying to keep from lurching too much any time his slim fingers moved just right. It took monstrous effort not to thrash when, without much pre-warning, Dave lowered his head and latched on to the sensitive tip with his lips to start suckling. Shit, forget making it a slow and sweet thing: Dave was quick and needy.

     The blonde had started to bob his head with a hushed moan, eyes closed in bliss as he gripped with his left hand. His right went down to lower his own zipper, needing to get a hand around his own cock, kneading it in time with the movement of his head.

     No warnings. No preparation. Just teasing, no lead up. Just Dave desperate to get something in his mouth and a quarter of the way down his throat without gagging, movements of his head smooth and practiced as his hand made up the difference of the space he couldn't taste at the same time. Pressure, kneading, smooth rubbing from root and base that occasionally loosened and lowered to tease his balls instead.

     John was stuck squirming on the boxes, legs trying to open wider and being trapped by his pants. Stupid things..! He wanted to make it easier for those chill fingertips to stroke his thighs, maybe tease at his taint. Hell, if there were an offer, he'd have been happy with a bit of fingering too. Trying to avoid anything embarrassingly similar to the potty dance of old, John lowered his hands to get in contact with Dave while he worked instead.

     He carded his own rough hands through that pale hair he liked too much, found the thickest part of it and tangled his fingers in thoroughly enough to give it a good tug. Dave moaned louder than before and hummed along his length, approving. John tugged again, but applied some force this time, trying to steer Dave just a little lower.

     While there was a moment of hesitation, Dave's hand was soon working himself faster and he swallowed down another fraction of an inch with a wet noise. He didn't last long before he had to pull back and cough, start a rhythm again.

     John alternated between tugging and gently steering Dave now and then since he seemed to be enjoying it, while Dave was steadily falling to pieces. He wound up spending in his hand with little warning, painting a patch of the floor milky white, slim frame shuddering harshly. He pulled off to pant, rocking back on his heels for a second, raising a hand.

     “Just.. Haa... Just a second. ..Just need a second,” Dave had started to say, finishing syllable being followed by warm lips on his, firm hands scooping beneath his arms. John was lifting as he scooted back, guiding Dave's twitching, sensitive cock up against his own, and gripping firmly. No need to keep using your mouth, Dave, unless it was for kissing. The show had been intense, and there was no way to avoid being handsy now.

     “FUCK,” Dave cried out with a groan, high firing nerves not wanting to dilute anything yet, dragging him from one high and steadily towards another, keeping him on edge instead of letting him enjoy an afterglow and slow deflate. John was nearing his peak, was on the borders and needy of touch, of kisses. Dave was now fairly certain he'd manage his one orgasm and maybe watery traces of an urged second, lips pressed wetly together, tongues tangling.

     It was messy, Dave having slobbered while working John's length over, neither of them paying much mind on things like pressure, or cleanliness. Sex was messy and heated and desperate, if you did it really well. When John finally came, Dave following after with the nearly clear secretion he'd predicted, it was just another thing to clean up.

     The kisses were sweeter then. Softer. They mopped their faces with sleeves and shirt collars between heavily panted breaths, trading sweet nothings as they separated and started to clean up. Dave snagged a few sheets of paper towels and distributed them from an open package, not wanting to leave a mess and not wanting to deal with another plane ride sticking to the inside of his boxers and smelling like no come.

     “Was that worth it? Dave asked, throwing wadded up paper into the garbage bin, closing the lid again. He was shaky, a bit tired, but damn was that a well scratched itch. Sighing, Dave tucked himself away and organized his junk before zipping up and shoving his shirt down. Now to deal with the messy hair.. God damn it, John.

     “More than worth it. Y'know, I had serious doubts when I had to come find you, yet I-”

     John was cut off by a sharp series of noises that quickly devolved into an 8-bit version of a theme song from a video game he couldn't quite place. It sounded so familiar..

     “John, do your pants up. Like. Now.”

     “Why?”

     “Alarm. We gotta get to the gate.”

     Whining, petulant, John stood up and threw out his trash before jogging to get his pants up, struggling with the zipper even as Dave opened the door.

     “Dave, come on, I don't have the zipper up! Dave! Dave, shut the door!”

     “Dude, we need to literally be runnin' right now. RUN.”

     While Dave wasn't thrilled about having to jog to not miss their second flight, John was stuck doing the penguin run of shame right after him and his messy hair. Nobody was fooled. Everyone knew what must have happened only from the looks on their faces, the red cheeks and dispositions as they finally got to settle into their seats minutes later.

     What a start to a vacation..

     It'd be one to remember.


End file.
